The Immortality Game

“Your jaw,” he cried. His doctor training was nearly all theoretical, with just one semester of work with cadavers, so to encounter something like this in reality was unnerving. Her jaw was bruised and swelling, and he figured it was at the very least dislocated and possibly broken. He could see the pain in her eyes as she tried to gurgle words at him. “Don’t talk. Let me try to help.”

He gently took her hand away from her jaw and probed carefully with his own. Despite the discoloration, the bone didn’t feel broken to him, and he breathed a sigh when he found that it wasn’t dislocated. There could still be a fracture, though, that I can’t feel. I need to get her to a hospital. Grudgingly, he opened the link to his father. «Papa, I need your help.»

«That’s right, shut me out and then—»

«I don’t need a lecture; I just need your help.»

«Sure.»

«Zoya is hurt. I’ve got to find a nearby hospital or clinic or whatever they use here and get her to it. I’m going to plug into her slot; can you please reprogram some of her nanobots for pain relief?»

«Of course. Tell me the exact problem so I can know what level to program.»

«Her jaw is possibly fractured. She was also nearly strangled and has a badly bruised neck.» As he said this, Marcus snapped the zip-cable into his own slot and then guided the other end into Zoya’s.

«Got it,» Javier replied. «I’ll program some more bots to scan the extent of tissue damage.»

«Thanks.»

«Are you done with this mess? I’ve got what I need, now I’d like to get you to safety. You’ve been altogether too careless with your life in this insane city.»

Having been too consumed with worry over Zoya, Marcus took a moment to look around the room. Under a tangle of chairs nearby lay the wicked looking gun he had seen Tavik brandishing earlier. On the raised platform, the body of the huge gangster curled into itself, apparently lifeless, but beyond him Tavik had raised a hand to his face. Crap! That’ll be trouble!

Beneath his fingers, Zoya’s jaw moved and a hoarse whisper escaped her lips. “Shhh,” he hushed. “Don’t try to talk.” She persisted, so he put his ear close to her mouth.

In a strained rasp she said, “Irina…‌Pyotr.”

Marcus couldn’t be sure who she meant. Through an open door into what looked like an office, he saw blood spattered on the walls and feared what he might find there. “Is Irina a blonde woman?” he whispered.

A faint nod from Zoya.

“I think she’s all right. Saw her run out of the building. Scared, but she didn’t look hurt to me. Sorry, I don’t see anyone else, unless Pyotr is Bunny’s real name?”

“No,” she rasped, and moved her eyes in the direction of the office.

Marcus shook his head. “I’ll have to check.” He really didn’t want to leave Zoya alone, but he supposed if someone was injured in there…

Tavik groaned loudly and sat up.

Marcus stared at him in alarm. He’d been praying the gangster was too injured to cause more problems, but it seemed his prayers were falling on deaf ears.

With another groan, Tavik pushed himself to his feet and slumped against the wall.

The gun! Marcus thought, disconnecting the zip-cable from his slot. He crawled over and snatched the weapon from the carpet, then stood up to face Tavik. The mobster was rubbing the palms of his hands into his eyes and moaning.

«Papa. Can you get an ambulance…‌or a taxi or something? I need to get Zoya out of here. One of the bad guys is coming to his senses. I’ve got a gun, but I’m not sure I have the nerve to use it.» He examined the gun, hoping any safety latch would be readily apparent, but he couldn’t find one. A cough followed by mocking laughter drew his attention back to Tavik.

“You,” Tavik said, pointing a finger his way, “foreigner. You’re like a lapdog, running around after us, biting at my heels. Where the hell did you come from? And give me my fucking gun back.” He shoved off from the wall and lurched in Marcus’s direction.

Blood pounded in Marcus’s forehead and he had to remind himself to breathe. He lifted the pistol and pointed it, wavering, at Tavik. “Don’t come any closer or I’ll shoot!” The clear note of panic in his voice made him disgusted with himself.

Tavik didn’t stop and was no more than a couple meters away now. He laughed again. “Come now, let’s all be friends!” He held out a hand and gave it a wave, urging Marcus to hand over the weapon. “It’s all over. I won’t hurt you.”

He’s too close! I can’t…‌I can’t…‌but Zoya! Marcus pulled the trigger, hoping the wild swaying of the gun wouldn’t cause him to miss. Nothing happened. The trigger wouldn’t budge.

Tavik cackled and snatched the pistol from Marcus. With exaggerated care he hefted the gun and pointed it into Marcus’s face. “It only works for my hand, friend. Bio…‌something, whatever they call it.”

Marcus squeezed his eyes shut, awaiting the shot that would end it all. «Bye, Papa. Tell Mama I love her.»